


Stand

by Tianzhu



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth, Persona Series
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tianzhu/pseuds/Tianzhu
Summary: I leave you behind… I let you go and disappear… without even knowing your name.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just an experiment, I guess. AU of course, but still P4 hero (Souji) + P3 hero (Minato), my OTP. Been shipping them for years ever since PS2 P4 came out, but this is a first attempt at an actual fic of them together instead of just together in my head. Special thanks to PQ for pushing me to write it out.
> 
> Based on and inspired too by a song I like.

*

Darkness. Just as I am so accustomed to.

I don't fumble with the buttons. I know what I'm doing. I've done this a million times. 

But maybe not exactly like this.

I skillfully feed the buttons through the holes, one by one. But I do take my time though even if I am already so adept at this.

I have all the time in the world.

The bed is soft. I'm a little surprised. I would think that after that much use, it'd become rather dull, or hard. I sit on the edge of it on the side, and it curves against and underneath me. It doesn't squeak that much either. But I hadn't really cared if the springs made any desperate sound, calling out, signaling what we've done.

I leave the last button up at my shirt collar undone. It's not suspicious, it's how I entered the room. I do know how to dress on different occasions, whether it be formal. Or casual.

Or just once.

I stand up again, and the bed doesn't make a sound. Neither do you. The room is dark, but not completely. I see some light, through the thick, heavy curtains, a sliver of moonlight. It tells me the sheets are white, but that is all. I could've guessed. Standard color. The comforter was a floral pattern that was promptly forgotten once it landed on the floor. Once we didn't need it.

I stand up and put on my pants. They're comfortable, casual. Not even a wrinkle as I had folded them beforehand. Placed them on the one nightstand. I button them up and zip them up again without much help from the light. I don't need it, after all. I've done this before.

But not exactly like this.

I slide the belt through the loops and start to buckle it off. I shouldn't have worn this belt, the buckle snaps albeit gently when I want to keep it in place. I should have gone with the normal one with the hole and metal prong.

Because when I snap it shut, it is ever so soft. But you stir. Just ever so slightly though. But you don't move again after that.

I could sit in a nearby chair, but instead, I sit back down on the bed. My side of it, where I had sat earlier. You are on your side, the sheet covering you perfectly in all the right places. I don't know why I sit here on this side. It is just to replace the socks on my feet. I was already close with you tonight. I don't know why I would want to be close to you again.

I think you intrigue me. Just ever so slightly. I put the socks on my feet and slip on my shoes. They slip on so easily, like they were ready to make the escape before I was.

I do take the time though and bother to put on my glasses. As previously stated, I walked in with them, I shall walk out with them. It's not like I really need them.

But you mentioned that you liked them. A passing comment, compliment. So I put them on. For you.

The moonlight, as little as there is, still reflects in the glass.

I look back slightly at your form. Lean, lithe, dark in the darkness. I think you do intrigue me. Just a bit.

I reach my hand out, wanting to touch that form of yours again, your hair that is soft and as midnight blue as the hour. But something holds me back. I've already been close with you. Why would I need to do it again?

I've already seen your form. I already saw you, underneath me, writhing and arching.

I'm not sure what I felt. It must have been physical pleasure, as evidenced in the sheets. Some people might think it so crass. But it's only natural. Just a natural reaction. I didn't mind it.

But other than that, I don't know what else to feel.

I saw you underneath me. It felt like ages, with you there against the white of the sheets, my body over yours. 

Was I using you, or were you using me?

There was the heat, the sweat, my tongue, your tongue, my lips, your lips, my touch, your touch… You made some noise and so did I.

But all it is was noise. Some would call whatever we did… something so primitive, so primal. I don't believe what we did was like that. It's true, we filled the silence with our movements, our union.

But it seemed like I held back. Did you? In my experience, from what I've known, I thought everything was supposed to be much louder.

It all seemed so subdued. It's true. Nothing unleashed or with abandon.

It just… was.

So what happened here? Maybe this is why I'm intrigued by you.

Did you use me or did I use you? Did you hold back or did I hold back?

You stir again, and this time you turn your sleeping head away from where I am looking.

So what was I? Was I only a tool, an instrument, to be used? Was I the powerful one, using you? 

I don't know why I care so much about this or have to think about it at all.

Especially when our lips met. Our eyes closed. I didn't see what you looked like in that moment.

When we joined as one… it was as if we consummated a marriage without me knowing who you were.

I can't resist looking at your form though. The light provides me a little more information. What I thought was lean, lithe, and dark is still dark… but I see you are thin, rather frail. Even with that fragile body of yours that it seems I have violated, you draw me in, even to have me doubt again, who exactly is the one being used here…

I find myself leaning over to look at you. Though I had told myself, what am I even doing? But I do find myself doing it.

Perhaps it is because you remind me of… someone. Someone so close… like I'm looking in a reflection.

I look over your frail and what could be described as your half-starved form, do I remember… your sullen eyes, dull cheeks, how your collarbone could have lacerated me. But it's all dark, so I might be imagining it all. Because my lips touched yours, and they were soft as is standard, and you moved underneath me as was standard as well.

I'm surprised though, a little. My glasses have fallen off and landed on you. They fall on you, on the sheets in such a way that they slide down and rest next to your side. Yet you don't move. Much. You stir again, I think I see your eyelashes flutter lightly against the pillow case, and you turn your head more in my direction again. But it's so dark, it is hard to tell.

And then you don't remind me of anyone at all.

With this thought, I replace the glasses on my face and in this one night, stand. Again. Now back on my side of the bed, no longer looming over you. I adjust my shirt collar, my shirt itself, and my pants once more, but I'm sure by now I look without suspicion.

I do not know if my standing up off the bed has caused you to stir once more.

Because I don't look back at you.

Because after tonight, I will never see you again.

I leave you behind… I let you go and disappear… without even knowing your name.

 

**

 

Darkness. Just as I am so accustomed to.

But by your movements and what I feel, I can feel you removing the buttons from my shirt. I didn't do it in preparation before you came. I think I waited because I wanted you to be the one to remove them. I can feel your fingers, skillfully pulling the buttons from the holes, one by one. You take your time. I can tell you are already adept at this. You've probably done this a million times before.

I have all the time in the world.

The bed is soft, and am I thankful for that. I've been in a number of places that have been less forgiving on my body. It was probably lucky for me that it was decided that we should end up here, where countless others have done what we have. I lie on the bed now, ready, my clothes along with the floral-pattern comforter on the floor. I feel the bed curve under me, under my weight, and I find it a little comforting that I won't be the first. The springs can make all the noise they want, but it doesn't really matter to me.

You remove your shirt too, the shirt that you had on, I saw, the top button left undone. It's the way you entered the room. I can tell you know how to dress for an occasion like this. Casual.

Or just once.

You're ready in a few moments. The belt buckle snaps open and you meticulously fold your clothes. Place them on the one nightstand. How clever, you don't want anyone to know what we have done here? But I see how you move, and that you do it out of habit. That you don't really care what anyone thinks. You just… do.

You climb onto the bed again, and it doesn't make a sound. Neither do you. Neither do I. The room is dark, but not completely. I see some light, it comes through the heavy curtains I thought I had closed completely shut. I see our dark forms over the bedsheets that are white. But that's all I really see. I could have guessed. Standard color. 

I see you over me. Another sliver of light catches the sheen in your silver hair. I want to touch it, it looks so soft, but decide against it. It'd be too much, right?

You bring a hand up, casual, and remove your glasses. I'm glad and maybe a little amused that you decided to humor me. I said I liked them on you when I saw you and knew that you had them. 

I see the lenses reflected in the moonlight, off that prescription glass. But you don't really need them, after all.

Now that you are over me, and I underneath you, we start to move. I know what I'm supposed to do. I can tell that you know what you're doing as well. I move underneath you, you move over me. I already see your form, bending and curving against mine. I arch and writhe in return.

I'm not sure what I felt. Some sort of physical pleasure, as evidenced in the sheets.

But other than that, I don't know what else to feel.

Was I using you, or were you using me?

There was the rush, the hot breath, from your mouth, my mouth, your lips, my lips… You made some noise, and so did I.

But all it is was noise.

But it seemed like I held back. Were you holding back too? It seems that it was quieter than I would have expected. Normally I think I'm so quiet except when it comes to this, but…

It all seemed so muted. We moved, natural and in unison, but the silence was broken with the quietest of sounds.

It just… was.

So what happened here? I'm starting to wonder about you, like when I first saw you.

Did you use me or did I use you? Did you hold back or did I hold back?

So what was I? Was I only a toy, just a plaything to be used? Was I actually the powerful one, using you? 

Especially when our lips met. Our eyes closed. I didn't see what you looked like in that moment.

When we joined as one… it was as if we consummated a marriage without me knowing who you were.

Like we broke all the rules of all that is holy and sacred. And for what?

It feels like ages. But then it's over as soon as I think that. I see your form move, and you're catching your breath. It doesn't take long because like we know, we stayed rather quiet, just the minimal of sounds that come standard with this.

You move off me now. I think you take a look at me before you do move. And you don't move to lay beside me as I think is standard. You move yourself off of me and off the bed. But did I even want you to stay?

I see your form getting dressed. I think you see me as well, but you don't say a word. I see you putting on that shirt, so skillful, just like you took off mine, took off yours.

Maybe you don't see me though, it's so dark. I'm not sure you're even looking at me or if you can see any of me under all the sheets either, it's so dark. Maybe you are looking…? But I think it's your back that is turned to me though as you're sitting on the edge of the bed. 

I think you bend and put your socks and shoes on. I'm not sure since I turn away for the moment. Like you're ready to leave whenever you wish. That's your prerogative, isn't it? 

Your shoes slip on so easily. I know my shoes and socks are near yours. I remember you put yours next to mine.

I feel the heat of your hand over my body, like you want to touch me. But something stops you and you pull away.

I don't know why you don't touch me. But did I want you to touch me again? I'm not sure, and I'm not sure what I would feel if you did touch me again. Or if I do want you to. Do you like how I look? Did you like how I looked underneath you and now after you've done what you wanted with my form? I think I do for yours. Like, I mean. Strong, built, dark in the darkness. 

I think I do wonder about you. I think I am intrigued. Even if just a little.

You're looking at me again. This time I know you are. The light lets me see a little more of you. What I thought was strong, built, and dark is still dark… but I see you are weak, rather frail. Even with that ordinary body of yours, the one you used to despoil me, you draw me close to you, even to have me wonder again, who exactly is the one being used here…

I can't stop looking at you. The perfect crease folds in your shirt since you had folded it beforehand. The curve of your face, the smoothness of your skin, I can't stop looking. I don't know why I can't, but I find myself doing it.

Maybe because you remind me of… someone. Someone so close… like I'm looking in a reflection.

I look at your average and insubstantial form, do I remember… your solemn eyes, pale cheeks, how your long, thin fingers and hands held me, touched me, delicate. Not like what I have felt before in other instances with me in this position. But it's all dark, so I'm probably just imagining it all. Because my lips touched yours, and they were soft as is standard, and you moved over me as was standard as well.

I turn back again, and it's still so dark. I feel something fall on me, but it is ever so soft, a tap. I see your form over me, and I know now it's your glasses. You pick them up and I see the sliver of moonlight glean for a second over the prescription glass. But I can hardly tell, it's so dark.

Then you don't remind me of anyone at all.

With that thought, I turn away from you again, and I feel you, in this one night, stand. Up and away from the bed. I don't move in response. I don't know if you look at me anymore.

Because I don't look back at you.

Because after tonight, I will never see you again.

I leave you behind… I let you go and disappear… without even knowing your name.

*

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if any of this made sense? It made more sense in my head though. Hope it was okay. Thanks for reading.


End file.
